


Love in the Time of History Class

by AnacondaGagaYonceYas



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - Canadian 21st c., Political RPF - France 21st c.
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Classroom Sex, Crushes, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, I mean it's still third person limited always but, I recognize the awfulness of that joke, M/M, Masturbating to a song, Masturbation, More like LEGEND GODGA! Amirite or what?, Nobody's Underage Don't Worry, Rimming, Shamelessly promoting Lady Gaga, Teacher-Student Relationship, sorry - Freeform, switching POVs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-17 13:51:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12367122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnacondaGagaYonceYas/pseuds/AnacondaGagaYonceYas
Summary: The truth is Justin didn't hate History at all. He quite liked the class really. He just hated being there, and to be fair, he had a good reason:The teacher was a massive distraction.-------------Emmanuel really didn't like teaching one of his classes all that much.Not because they were a bad class, no not at all.It's just that one of the students made teaching (and avoiding favoritism) a bit hard.





	1. Monday Morning Troubles (Justin)

"...And that's the story of how the Soviet Union was officially dissolved on December 26th, 1991, thus ending the Cold War!" Mr. Macron said in his French accent with way too much energy and excitement for a 1st period class on Monday morning.

Justin knows he should've probably paid attention to that lecture, but all the motivation he had to pay attention during Monday morning classes had dropped out of him ever since the beginning of 11th grade. Or the end of the third quarter of 10th grade. He couldn't quite pinpoint the exact time.

But that wasn't the only reason he wasn't paying attention to the lecture.

It was also because of the lecturer. 

The dashing, handsome, and beautiful French history teacher was the bane of Justin's existence. Not because he disliked him, but because of the exact opposite.

Mr. Macron was quite possibly the most perfect example of a human being one could make. He was smart, funny, charming, hot, and made staying awake worth it. If only it was legal and socially acceptable for them to be together. The amount of cheesy pick-up lines both to his face AND on notes and papers that he would say.

But of course, because the universe hates him, it isn't. It has to be illegal. I mean, it's probably for the best seeing as to how it probably has prevented some pretty bad acts but can't true (probably unrequited) love can get an exception in this case.

"Now, let's talk about homework, which was to read that article I put up," Mr. Macron said, bringing Justin back to Earth. When nobody volunteered, Mr. Macron decided it'd be a good idea to just pick someone at random "Justin! How about you start?"

"Well uh..." Justin started. You see, he hadn't exactly gave the article his full attention. He skimmed through it on his phone on the way to school. Trying to gather up any memories he had of it, he said "I thought it was interesting that um it wasn't just a big deal or celebration in Germany only. It was even receiving coverage in the United States halfway across the World," Justin said, hoping he got it right and that Mr. Macron wouldn't ask him to say more.

"Great. Anyone else?" He asked the class, causing Justin to breathe out a sigh of relief. He could now go back into space and just stare at Mr. Macron. 

However, that took a dark turn.

As it happened on many occasions before, his staring turned into fantasies; as in fantasies in which the classroom is empty and Mr. Macron is naked. This isn't a bad fantasy (not in the slightest), but the thing is, it always, and I actually mean  _always,_ gets Justin hard. He looked at the clock "shit" he said. 9:57 AM. He had only 2 minutes to suppress the erection and so he tried the most effective (and the most unpleasant) way: picturing the president naked while squeezing his thumb.

It made him almost threw up, but it also made him completely flaccid, and luckily for him, it was by the time that the class had just ended  _whew thank God_ he thought.

He walked out of the room being the last to leave. Before he got out the door, he looked back at his teacher and said "goodbye Mr. Macron" to which he replied "see you later," with a smile. That little smile brought a smile and a blush on Justin's face. Something he picked up over the months is that not only was the one that he said "see you later" to, but also the only that he actually smiled at. 

He knew it probably meant very little, if not absolutely nothing, but it always made him feel special. It was honestly the primary reason that Justin always put maximum effort in all his classes, because if he did so well in History, then maybe Mr. Macron would still always be the same, and because if he graduates, he could finally be with Mr. Macron, without breaking any law. And adding to that, maybe if he got valedictorian, he could get on that stage and see Mr. Macron with some goofy grin that a mom would give.

Every time History ended and he left that room and got that "see you later" with a smile, he got just a bit more motivation to make sure he didn't fail.

 


	2. Lunch (J)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes. The title and tags have changed.

Justin took a seat in his usual booth without any food in the cafeteria with Barack and Sophie and took out his phone and went on Twitter.

As Barack and Sophie approached, he put away his phone and said "hey guys."

"Hey," Barack said.

"Hey," Sophie said.

After that they sat in a comfortable silence for a good 5 minutes before Barack said "so um, you hear what Marine said about you Justin?"

Rolling his eyes at the mention of the least popular mean girl at school "what'd she say this time?"

"That you had daddy issues," Sophie replied before Barack got the chance "weirdest accusation ever."

"What's she talking about? I don't have any problems with him," Justin said, surprised.

"Not according to her," Barack said.

"She claims that he doesn't love you and that's why you like older men," Sophie added.

"What?" Justin replied, with a bit of worry in his mind. He did like older men after all. Just think about his crush.

"She  _also_ says you like Mr. Macron," Barack said.

"Crazy bitch," Sophie added.

"Yeah," Justin said "uh question, exactly when did she say this and who heard about these?"

"History. Last period," Barack answered.

"98% sure Mr. Macron heard her tbh," Sophie added.

 _Fucking hell_ "well that's gonna make class awkward" Justin said.

"Weird though. You'd expect a teacher to at least say something to a student when they say something like that. But Mr. Macron acted like he didn't hear a thing," Sophie said.

"Huh," Justin said, confused. He thought he liked him. Why did he not reprimand Marine at all? Unless... 

_Maybe he likes me a bit? I mean it's not too far fetched. I'm clearly his favorite, and maybe he was just happy that there might be some truth to that last claim?_

_What am I thinking this is hella far fetched don't fool yourself Justin._

_But what if it's not?_

_It is goddammit._

_You're right._

"Uh hello?" Barack said, bringing Justin back to Earth from his mental debate. 

"Yeah?" Justin asked "what?"

"Nothing," Barack answered.

"You just seemed like you were gone," Sophie said.

"Oh," Justin replied "sorry."

Justin then decided to pick up his bag and dug around in it for a while until he found it: the office hours schedule.

He looked at the available teachers on Monday until he saw it: "After school: Mr. Macron, Room 317."

_Perfect_

He then decided to make a mental note to himself to go to office hours today. 


	3. Office Hours (Emmanuel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens in the classroom after school stays in the classroom.
> 
> Wait that sounds dirty.
> 
> And also not fitting for this particular situation since there's literally nothing that happens here that needs to stay a secret from others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy Emmanuel gets a chapter.

"And that's the bell, pack your shit and go home. Don't forget homework!" Emmanuel shouted to his class after the last bell of the day rang.

He was so relieved that he could finally go home after the longest day. He loved his job he really did, however, his energy could only last so long and by the time 6th period hit he was already dead inside.

He started packing up his things when he remembered one crucial detail that mad him mutter "oh no."

It was Monday, which meant he had office hours after school today.

He seriously considered just writing a note saying "FAMILY EMERGENCY - OFFICE HOURS CANCELLED" but then he remembered that he didn't have a family to fake an emergency for, and that the principal knew this. He also knew he couldn't say he was sick because he did not fake it before. 

_Shit._

He actually had to stay.

He sighed and sat down at his desk. The worst part about having office hours is that no one ever actually came. Especially for History. He considered giving them harder and more work so he'd have people actually coming in during office hours, but then he realized that meant more grading. He just couldn't win could he?

He took out the set of worksheets from the first class he had today, and smiled when he saw the name at the paper on top of the stack: Justin Trudeau, written all nicely in a legible script.

He wanted to grade it with the same standards with all the others, but he just couldn't y'know? Like, every time he saw that name, he couldn't help but lose a set of teaching morals that prevented favoritism from coming into play.

What could he say? He just really liked the kid. 

Not like in a sexual way or anything. Totally not. Absolutely not. Of course not. He was just... a really good student. Yeah, a really good student that's... that's all. Yeah, that's all. Just a really good student who happened to also be extremely attractive and funny and smart and nice and likable and... damn it he was doing it again; listing all the great things about Justin Trudeau. He was going to Hell.

He got to grading, and he was about to read the first answer, but suddenly, he heard the door open. He turned his head to see who it was, and he smiled for the student coming in was Justin Trudeau.

"Yes Mr. Trudeau?"

"Well um, I was wondering," he replied "I heard Marine said some bad things about me, but no one's telling me  _what_ it was but I heard that you might've heard it so um... could you maybe let me know?"

Emmanuel considered telling him the truth, and made a mental pros and cons list:

PROS:

1.) Justin would have  _some_ peace of mind.

2.) Justin actually  _might_ harbor some interest in him. He'd caught Justin staring at him a few times. He'd just passed it off as nothing, but hearing Marine's words he wondered: COULD there be truth to those rumors?

CONS:

1.) No peace of mind. 

2.) Too risky. 

      2a.) Justin has feelings, he confesses, an affair begins, they get caught.

      2b.) Justin has feelings, but keeps them to himself because he assumes he holds none, and class becomes awkward.

      2c.) Justin doesn't have feelings, everything becomes awkward.

"I'm sorry," Emmanuel replied "I heard nothing of what she said."

"Oh," Justin replied, disappointed "good day then," he said, with a disappointed smile.

"Good day," Emmanuel replied with the same expression "see you tomorrow."

Then a weird thing happened: Justin's disappointed smile became an actual smile, and he said back "see you later."

"See you," Emmanuel replied, slightly confused.

He really wanted to find out if Justin had any feelings towards him because he loved seeing him smile, and he loved making him smile.

He looked down at the paper and figured it out:

1.) Identify Justin's weak points, and see if there's any that others don't struggle on at all, or at best, just very little.

2.) Make a big project that incorporates that way too much. Justin's bound to ask for help and come to him then.

3.) See if those meetings ever lead to anything.

And so, Operation Find Out His Feelings was officially in motion. 


	4. The Project (E)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emmanuel's figured it out.
> 
> Second part to this comes out in a day.

So Justin could analyze a text, he could write a response to a text, and he had a knack for getting questions right.

But as it turns out, the man lacked creativity in his works somehow.

_Perfect._

* * *

"Okay class," Emmanuel hollered to his class while handing out rubrics for the next project "your unit end project is gonna be a little different from your previous ones, different in that it's not an essay, it's not a presentation, and it doesn't require any text evidence or cited sources; It's a creative project y'all!" He finished looking at Justin, whose face dropped in horror.

_Perfect._

"The assignment is to write a historical fiction short story. At least 7 pages in length, several references to the time must be made, and obviously, everything must be clear, as in what's the historical context, what's the plot, etc..." Emmanuel said "and yes, this  _will_ be graded strictly. I feel I've been a bit too lenient with y'all. Might as well turn up the ante a bit on the easiest project."

"If for some reason you need creative writing lessons, come to me. You might be wondering why you wouldn't just go to your English teacher instead, but I actually minored in English in college, as well as some other classes," he announced "and this  _is_ a history project after all so just you know, come to me," he finished, looking directly at Justin, hoping it wasn't too obvious what his intentions were.

 

 


	5. Office Hours Reprise (J)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin has no clue what to do.

First night of the project and here's the progress he'd made so far:

**The Story of Little Tim**

That's all the progress he'd made so far. The title. And not even a good title either. 

 _The Story of Little Tim? Seriously Justin?_ He thought as he whacked his forehead. He was so fucked. He was good at essays and shit. Not fucking stories. 

 _Office Hours_ _it is then I suppose._

* * *

 The thing about asking teachers for help is that he  _hated_ asking teachers for help. He was smart, and so he liked to do this thing where he depends purely on himself and only ask his friends for help on the most desperate of situations, and he flat out looked  _down_ upon students who asked for help from teachers.

And now he was going to a teacher for help.

This was very damaging for his ego.  

But still, he swallowed his pride, took a breath, and walked into the History room after last period, muttering a little "oomphf" in pain as he moved his legs because for some reason, he went with wearing the most tightest pair of jeans known to man.

"How may I help you?" Mr. Macron asked completely deadpan without any emotion in his voice, not bothering to even look up as Justin entered the room.

"Hi, Mr. Macron, I uh, I think I actually  _might_ need help on this," Justin replied meekly.

Mr. Macron's eyes immediately went wide at the sound of his voice. He look up at Justin and gave a polite smile and replied "of course, how may I help you?"

"I uh... I haven't a clue what the hell I'm doing."

"That's alright let's see what you got," Emmanuel said.

Justin put down his bag right in front of his teacher's chair, they logged into his drive where his document was, and opened it up.

**The Story of Little Tim**

As Justin facepalmed, his teacher muttered under his breath "oh honey no."

"So yeah, it's uh, not in the best of shapes as you can see," Justin said.

"Yeah," Mr. Macron replied "okay let's start with the basics, so my first question is: who the hell is Little Tim?"

"I guess he's some kid who lives in a small town and he's a victim of the Red Scare and is constantly paranoid about the Cold War due to the immense contemporary paranoia," Justin replied, hoping he sounded smart. 

"In that case let's change this title completely," Mr. Macron replied, deleting the title "what do you feel is more appropriate give me an idea."

"..." Justin was lost "......................................" very, very lost ".............................................................."

Doing nothing blink his eyes twice he said "okay maybe let's try to come up with something basic and then work our way to something more complex," Mr. Macron said, hitting command + z to undo the erasing of the title "now, 'The Story of Little Tim.' Let's, let's jazz that up a bit."

Terrified he was about to be asked another question, he was saved by the ringing of his phone.

"Mind if I get this?" Justin asked, to which Mr. Macron nodded.

Justin accepted the call, which was an unknown number. 

To his disappointment, it wasn't a friend to summon him somewhere or one of his parents to order him to come home, but instead, it was a fucking telemarketer.

_I can work with this._

"Hello? What? Why? Fine. Kay," Justin said on the phone with absolutely no clue as to what the telemarketer just said.

"My mom just said to go home so, can I come tomorrow?" He said.

"Anytime," Mr. Macron replied.

"Thanks," Justin said, and bent down to pick up his bag.

A funny thing happened tho. As he bent down, he just felt some sort of weird presence staring at him.

More specifically, staring at his ass.

Slowly turning his head just a few millimeters, not enough to notice, he saw out of his peripheral vision that Mr. Macron was staring at his ass, intently.

_Nice._

He picked up his bag, said goodbye, got his usual smile and "see you later" from Mr. Macron, all without turning back.

And all throughout that process, he could sense someone staring at his behind.

_Real nice._

Time to do that thing that happens in pretty much every student/teacher fanfics and write dirty notes on tests and papers and homework, and also chew on his pen caps while looking directly at him. 

This was going to be fun.   


	6. Plan In Motion (J)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin sets his plan in motion.

"Okay class," Mr. Macron hollered after everyone took their seats "surprise test!"

As everyone collectively groaned, Justin let a little smirk slip through. This was his chance to shamelessly flirt with Mr. Macron over paper.

"Subject: Cold War. When you're done: Hand it in to me," Mr. Macron announced, but Justin didn't care about all that. All he knew was that he needed to finish first. Time to fuck this up.

After getting his quiz, Justin looked down at it.

The first question was "In which year did the Berlin Wall fall?"

Justin wrote down as his answer "1989. However, I hope 2017 becomes the year you break my Ottawa Wall." _What the fucking hell am I writing?_

Question two: "In which year did the U.S.S.R. disintegrate?"

Justin wrote down "1991. If I'm lucky however, 2017 becomes the year our professional relationship disintegrates and becomes a little more personal." _Good Lord._

Question three: "Who was the last Soviet head of state?"

He answered "Mikhail Gorbachev. Now, let's forget about him, and talk about you ;)" _What the legitimate fuck?_

Question four: "What did U.S.S.R. Stand for?"

Answer four: "Union of Soviet Socialist Republics." He couldn't really figure out how to make that one dirty so he just left it at that I'm so failing this quiz

And so, that order kept happening -- he'd write an answer, and then a very dirty statement (when possible that is). This was the most dangerous thing Justin'd ever done, but somehow, he wasn't really scared of what the consequences may be.

He was the first one to finish thank God and he got up from his seat, which was just 12 ft away from Mr. Macron's seat and by the window, and handed in his test without a word, and sat back down.

He looked at Mr. Macron who had just started grading it. He could tell he just finished reading the first answer because he seemed to be in shock and his eyes went wide. He then looked at Justin, who looked at him right back, and once their eyes met, Justin decided this was a good time to start sucking on his pen. Mr. Macron must've gone into shock from that because his eyes went even wider, and he looked back down and went right back into grading.

_It's working_

After the period ended, they all left, 1/8th of them sad because they know they failed, another 1/8 confident they failed, but not sad, another 1/8th that passed but think they failed and are sad, another 1/8 that passed but think they failed and aren't sad about it, another 1/8th confident they passed and happy, another 1/8th who think they passed but didn't, another 1/8th who didn't have a clue and are panicking and a last 1/8th who didn't give a fuck.

You could probably guess which category Justin was in though, having just flirted with his definitely interested teacher via test answers.

"How you think you did on the test?" Jacinda, a friend of his, asked him.

"I have a feeling I rocked it," he answered.

Before leaving (last as usual), he took a look back.

Mr. Macron was still grading the tests, and he didn't say a thing to Justin, or even turn around to look at him.

 _Good_ Justin thought with a smirk and then left.


	7. The Note (J)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin finds a note in his locker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look. Sex.

After last period, Justin made his way to his locker, relieved that he could finally get the fuck out of school and go home after a long day. He had that nice little History test, but then that was ruined by an economics unit test next period. He was so ready to get out.

That all changed when he opened his locker.

You see, Justin always kept his locker without a lock on. He trusted the people to not steal his shit or to even open his locker.

But today he found something in there: his test (with a perfect score, of course), which came with the note: "See me - You Know Who".

Now all of a sudden, he didn't wanna leave school.

* * *

"Mr. Macron?" Justin said coming into his room, test in hand.

Without even looking up from his laptop, Mr. Macron said sternly "close the door Justin. Lock it too."

After he closed the door, Mr. Macron finally got up. He started walking towards Justin, who started walking walking towards him. Once they met in the middle, Mr. Macron pushed him up against the smart board, and crashed their lips together, causing Justin to make an obscene noise.

After a while, Mr. Macron broke the kiss, but still kept Justin's head in his hands and pushed up against the board and their foreheads still touching.

In a borderline predatory tone, he said "you see what you do to me Justin? You see what you do?"

Justin then grabbed Mr. Macron's crotch with one hand and used his other to bring his lips to him again, and said against his mouth while kissing him "and this is what you do to me."

And they just did that for a good three minutes. They just stood there making out very roughly, tongues and teeth fighting an epic battle with each other, both of them taking away the breath of the other, and both of them making very loud noises.

This time, Justin was the one to break the kiss. He chuckled and said, "you know, someone's bound to hear us."

"Well Mr. Trudeau," Mr. Macron said "I don't give a damn."

After a long lustful gaze, Justin just simply said "that's hot," and turned them around, now pushing Mr. Macron up against the smart board, and yanked on his tie, drawing out a moan from him. He then proceeded to get on his knees, and then pulled down Mr. Macron's zipper.

He gave the already erect cock a lick over it's briefs, causing Mr. Macron to let out an obscene groan.

"Oh YES Justin!" he cried.

"Yeah, you like that Mr. Macron?"

"I think we're well past last name basis at this point. Call me Emmanuel."

"Well then, you like that, Emmanuel?" 

"Oh yes!"

Next, he pulled down Emmanuel's underwear to let out his dick. It was  _much_ longer than he he expected from a middle aged white man. Impressed, he gave the whole thing a lick, making Emmanuel groan once more. After that, he gave the tip of it a lick, and proceeded to pretty much shower it with licks all over, and then eventually took his balls in his mouth, sucking on them for a while. 

And finally, he took his mouth off of his his balls, and devoured his teacher's cock, taking it all the way in, gagging himself with it. Emmanuel made a noise that he didn't even think humans could make. He proceeded to bob his head on Emmanuel's manhood, causing him to just let out a string of obscenities and his name, interluded with some moans and groans. Emmanuel suddenly pushed down Justin's head down all the way and started to thrust his hips and his dick in and out of his mouth. Eventually he let go, but when he did, Justin didn't take him back in. Instead, he slowly started to stand back up, leaving kisses all over Emmanuel's body, which became shirtless at some point apparently, and reached his mouth. He kissed with much force, and managed to win the fight for dominance with his tongue.

Emmanuel took the t-shirt off of Justin's body, and walked him toward one of the student's desks, and bent him over it. He kneeled down, and then stuck his tongue into Justin's anus, causing Justin to let out a loud a ground. He then proceeded to bury his whole mouth in there, licking and kissing the hole like there was no tomorrow, all while Justin just moaned and groaned like the walls were soundproof. Finally, he removed his face from there, and replaced it with his finger. He stuck his finger in there and poked around, searching for the prostate. Eventually, he poked something, and Justin let out a long moan. Emmanuel entered another finger in there and started scissoring him, causing Justin to nearly cry out of pleasure and make him start begging "oh fuck me already, please, I  _need_ it goddamn."

Behind him, Justin saw Emmanuel stand up "you don't have any STDs do you? Cause I don't have any condoms."

"I'm clean. You?"

"Yeah," Emmanuel replied while slicking up his cock with his spit.

Justin started to mentally prepare himself as he felt Emmanuel's wet, bare cock make contact with his ass, and bit his lips to keep himself from screaming as he finally entered slowly. Emmanuel started to then back up and pull out slowly, but he didn't actually pull out and went back in, a bit faster this time. This pattern continued for a while until finally, he just completely slammed in, hitting Justin's prostate, and making him scream out in pleasure. Instead of going any kind of slow, he went at a punishing pace from the start of it all. 

"Oh fuck yes Emmanuel," Justin said in between his moans "fuck me, harder!"

Emmanuel obliged happily and went even faster, causing the table that Justin had his hands on to vibrate, and slapped the side of his ass, making Justin moan particularly loud. Speeding up even more, he slapped him there again, making him moan like that again. 

Emmanuel then leaned on Justin's back and started sucking on his neck, leaving a hickey there, and making Justin groan. Justin turned his head, and started making out with Emmanuel, who had probably reached the speed of sound at this point. 

" _Fuck_ Emmanuel," Justin said "who knew you could do this?"

"Probably you. I mean, you did ask me to break your Ottawa wall." 

 Justin laughed at that "yes sir I did."

Something about the word "sir" must've sent Emmanuel over the edge because he started going even faster, and then came in ropes of cum inside of Justin, not coming back out.

Once he was done with his ejaculation, Emmanuel knelt down again, and turned Justin around. This time he took Justin in his mouth, and started sucking his cock furiously. Justin, being the virgin he was, couldn't handle it for more than 20 seconds, and came right inside his teacher's throat. Emmanuel stood back up, looked into Justin's eyes, and kissed him again. 

Breathlessly, Justin said "again sometime?"

"Sometime," Emmanuel replied while putting his clothes back on.

Justin then got dressed and started leaving, but not before he heard Emmanuel say "see you later."

 

 


	8. Home (E)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emmanuel goes home.

Half an hour later, Emmanuel left the building and was greeted by a gust of the cruelly frigid cold, New York air that comes with every Winter, and made his way to the end of the block, the corner of which happened to be blocked by a pile of snow  _at least it's not a puddle._

Walking around the corner, he continued on with his route home, but not before taking a trip to his favorite bakery.

"Chocolate cupcake with vanilla frosting and sprinkles, please," Emmanuel ordered "boxed."

"Alright, that'll be $3.47," the cashier said.

"Here you go," Emmanuel replied, giving the cashier the money with the exact change "have a nice day."

"You too sir."

* * *

After getting his cupcake and finally entering his house, he first went for the packet drawer, and took out a pack of birthday candles and stuck one on top of the cupcake after lighting it on the stove.

Sitting in the living room with some happy piano music playing on his phone, he sang "happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Emmanuel, happy birthday to you," and then blew out the candle and ate it. 

He then did the thing he was most scared of on his birthday: checking his social media. First he went on Facebook; nobody wished him happy birthday in messenger or on his timeline. Then Twitter, where nobody dm'd him or tweeted him happy birthday. Same for Instagram. 

He then checked his messages because he saw quite a few notifications, and he had some hope on that end at least.

_Let's see: data usage alert, message about work, message about work, another message about work, Human Rights Foundation, Amnesty International, message about work... okay then._

He put his phone away, facing his 12th consecutive year of not having anyone wishing him happy birthday. 

He hated his birthdays with a passion. This mainly came out of a place of self-hatred, but also out of a place of anxiety of telling people it was his birthday. He hated his birthdays, and so he never told anyone about it, and never got any birthday wishes. The latter wouldn't bother him as much if Facebook didn't remind everyone if it was someone's birthday, his school didn't put up a list of both student's and faculty's birthdays of the month in the lobby, and if his family weren't all alive and healthy.

He changed and grabbed his diary, and wrote

_Dear Diary:_

_Today, my wish came true: I had sex with Justin Trudeau._

_I can't believe I've finally managed to do it. He flirted with me through quiz answers. Can you believe it? And then after school, we had sex! Loud, bareback sex!_

_I'm hoping this can actually become something more however. I never wanted this to just be some hook-up relationship. Maybe it can be more than that._

_Oh and it's my birthday. I ate a cupcake and nobody wished me happy b'day. That's about it._

_12/21/17_

He then closed it, but then right after, he realized he wanted to write one more thing in the diary. He wrote under the date  _The first time in 12 years something good has happened to me on a birthday. How eventful._

He then went about his normal routine, which consisted of a shower, dinner while watching Netflix, grading some essays and some really old things, and going to sleep without talking to anyone once. 

But tonight,  _one_ change was made. 

When he got to bed, he went in there completely naked, rubbed some lotion on his hands, and put on "Dancin' in Circles" by Lady Gaga.

_Tap down those boots while I beat around, let's downtown._

_Tap down those boots while I beat around, funk me downtown._

He grabbed his bare dick and started stroking it ever so slowly, gasping as the cold lotion made contact with his hot skin.

_I lay around, touch myself to pass the time, I fell down, I wish you were mine_

He closed his eyes and moaned, and sped it up just a bit.

_I close my eyes, take a breath a_ _nd I picture us in a place, I can't recognize  
  
_ _In the fire I call your name out (call your name out)_

_Up full night tryin' to rub the pain out (rub the pain out)_

Imagining he and Justin were having sex by a warm fireplace in a log cabin in the woods, he started to go even faster, sweating as he pumped his cock with all the energy he could muster.

_I'm singin', baby_ _don't cry, b_ _aby don't cry_

_Dancin' in circles, feels good to be lonely_

He started bucking his hips up into his hands, which at this point was stroking him in the metaphorical speed of light. He was so close to climax, he could feel it. He was making obscene noise, no doubt pissing off his neighbors.

_I'm singin', baby don't cry, baby don't cry_

_Dancin' in circles, feels good to be lonely_

"Justin," Emmanuel whispered softly, like it was a prayer on his lips.

And now, it happened: he came. Ropes of come splattered across his stomach, some of it reaching his chest. Instead of bothering to clean up or turning off the music, he just went to asleep, with the full album still playing. Nine more songs were about to play after this, but he had a feeling he'd stay asleep just fine.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buy Joanne by Lady Gaga on iTunes


End file.
